This morning I do not have a particular topic in mind to write on so please forgive me for writing from a stream of consciousness. Some of this may make sense and some of it may not but here goes. I have been finding myself thinking a lot about the trial of Derek Chauvin and the entire affair leaves me really shaken. At my core I am absolutely and unequivocally against the death penalty, believing that it is state-sanctioned murder, does not deter crime, and will not bring back the person or people killed. I feel that the death penalty is really about religious retribution and vengeance as it really does not supply any true psychological closure to a serious crime. I feel really shaken because Derek Chauvin’s trial has, for a fleeting second, caused me to wish that Chauvin would get strapped to old sparky and have a million volts of electricity run through him like a freight train at full tilt bore.
What Chauvin did-place his knee on the neck of George Floyd for nine long minutes-could easily be considered a scene right out of a World War II concentration camp. The pain, fear, and surprise that George Floyd experienced absolutely beggars the imagination. I am even more disturbed at my want of Chauvin to experience this very same act that he visited on Mr. Floyd. I am disturbed because generally I consider myself to separate ration and reason from feeling. I am no better than Chauvin if I wish the same act visited upon him in retribution. In the end, I realized that cops generally do not fair well in prison and Derek Chauvin will meet the end of the punishment stick in one shape or form.
America has very serious and systemic problems that neither side of the aisle wants to tackle because both Republicans and Democrats are fat and happy on donations and perks. Just the other day I learned that each member of the House of Representatives is given forty thousand dollars per year to spend on office furniture. I do not even earn half of that amount of money per year. The only reason that I am able to keep this blog up is because I volunteer for paid research studies that give me prepaid Visa gift cards. In turn, I can use those gift cards to rent the space on a server. Members of both houses are paid high six-figure salaries with retirement benefits that most could only dream about. They earn these salaries while systematically taking away the rights of the working class and advocating and enacting policies to help their corporate puppetmasters. If members of both houses were forced to work on the $7.25 per hour minimum wage, you watch how fast the minimum wage would be increased to a liveable standard.
This morning I am depressed and angry and feel like what is the point of even fighting anymore when the best I can hope for is grinding poverty. My doctors want me to find employment again and that’s a nice lofty notion. But then I give up the stability that I get from assistance programs because I earn more than the federal poverty level for a single person which all of us know is really homelessness and destitution. So I give up a form of stable poverty for the vast unknown that employment again will shove me into. In an ideal world, I would not have to give up assistance until I am truly stable but America has this mentality that the poor are lazy and slovenly, hence the notion of the welfare queen. Sociologists conducted some extensive research on welfare recipients and found that most are honest. In fact, less than 1% were dishonest or tried to cheat the system.
Sometimes I think my psychiatrist wonders why I contemplate suicide and think about it, at least in a small amount, every day. She leads a life in relative comfort with a very high salary and excellent perks. I do so because the future legitimately looks like grinding poverty. Grinding poverty is absolutely and positively not leading a life in dignity. It is leading a life that is frought with unknown dangers and twists and turns; worrying about weather I have electricity at night or I eat during the day. Then I have the religious zealots tell me that life is precious. Okay, how is life precious when it cannot be lived in dignity? I am an educated man. I have a Bachelor’s Degree and I have some masters level credits. Supposedly I should be able to do better than the honest-to-god bleakness that is right in front of me.
I have a meeting with my psychiatrist today and I can barely muster the energy or desire to see her and the appointment is going to happen over Zoom. Then later on I have an interview for an information technology job which I feel really lackluster about because I am about to give up stable poverty for a vast moraine of the unknown. I interview really well and I expect that I will be offered the job which pays the equivalent of $25.00 per hour. I do not even really want it and I do not know what I want out of life anymore because the things that I do want are completely unobtainable; out of my reach.